


I'd Rather Die

by A New Username (HollowReBirth)



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, F/F, Gender or Sex Swap, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Science Experiments, Yuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-17 11:59:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4665762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollowReBirth/pseuds/A%20New%20Username
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was only years later that Kyouya Sakura would seriously come to regret the things he said about females way back in the day. Too bad it took becoming one himself in order to realize how stupid and arrogant he had been.</p><p>(Scientific Genderbend, yuri, KyouHomu, for the eyes of the mature)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Additional Living Expenses

**Author's Note:**

> Not a crowd-pleaser... this is just something I wrote up a few months back and recently published on FFnet. It's the first of many stories that I'll be taking over here and trying to maintain on both sites.

I’d Rather Die

Chapter One: Additional Living Expenses

* * *

 

_“In recent news, the birth rates of the countries that began implementing the countermeasure one year ago have shown notable growth, as reported by a Japanese analyst of the subject. Through the rather controversial process of—”_

With a click of the remote in her hands, the stoic girl before me turned off the TV, eyes moving to meet those of the girl that just walked into the house through the open backdoor – me, that is.

Her violet eyes looked me up and down, before the turned her gaze towards her front room, making her long, ebony hair sway around a bit. Without a hint of emotion in her tone, she dismissed me.

“Did the ‘no solicitors’ sign on my front door give you the impression that entering the back would be any more acceptable?”

I took a swig of the soda bottle in my right hand, making a bitter face before swallowing. “Do I _really_ look like a door-to-door saleswoman to you, Homura?”

“Your clothes stretch the thought a bit,” she replied, looking at me out of the corner of her eye. The glare that met her side glance caused her to turn to me fully, a crooked half-smile growing on her face. “Of course not. I’d recognize that ratty green hoodie anywhere.”

This reevaluation of my appearance and attire made me frown. “It’s the only top back home that still fits me, so I just threw it on with some baggy jeans before coming over.”

Her eyes widened a fraction as she stared at my chest for a moment. “So you’re telling me that there’s nothing on under your jacket?”

Her tone, a cross between mild shock, scolding, and slight embarrassment (only noticeable to people that knew her different versions of stoicism to be different emotions), irked me a bit. My frown evolved into a scowl as I looked towards the ground, kicking at a stray, empty soda can with my bare foot.

“At least I zipped it up,” I defended my case weakly. Even I knew that it wasn’t a proper defense, but it was the only thing I had. “And besides, I told you that nothing else would fit. I wore nothing but muscle shirts before I left, you know that.”

“Fair enough,” was her initial flat reply. But then, her eyes actually showed a bit of nervousness, a feeling that I almost never saw in the girl. “Wait… please tell me you at least have a bra on under there.”

My eyes closed with a ‘tsk’ sound before I took another swig of the contents of my soda bottle. Once again, I forced myself to ignore the slight burning in my throat. Unfortunately, my face betrayed me yet again, making me grimace. This time, Homura took notice, and the topic changed, much to my relief.

“What are you drinking?” she asked me, her voice slightly less emotionless than usual. “It can’t be a regular soda.”

“Just my lifeblood,” I replied casually, causing the ebony-haired girl to tilt her head in confusion. I sighed, beginning to elaborate. “I have to drink a bottle of this stuff about three times a day, otherwise I’ll get sick and then kick the bucket. Unfortunately, it tastes damn nasty, and has the burn of wicked alcohol.”

“You don’t seem that concerned,” she gave me a hard look.

“The only thing I _should_ be concerned about is the price,” came my annoyed response, followed by a great sigh. “Just a week’s worth of this stuff costs as much as a fighter jet.”

This bit of information gave me the satisfaction of watching my best friend choke. “Then just how are you going to pay for it?”

I could already see in her eyes that she was going to try to get her rather loaded family to pay for it. A hard feat in itself, considering that the main house all but cut her off for her preferences, only paying for her living expenses out of duty.

“Relax, it’s no big deal,” I casually denied her plan, waving a hand dismissively. “Well, normally, it would be. But, after taking into account my background, they decided to supply it to me for free, on one condition.”

“And what would that be?” She could tell from the annoyed look on my face that it wasn’t exactly one I would prefer.

“Well, I’m lucky enough to get the first month’s supply for free anyway, meaning I don’t have to rush in,” I told her, sighing once again. “But, after that, it’s do or die. Literally.”

“You still haven’t told me.” Homura seemed quite annoyed that I had delayed my answer.

It felt like the millionth time I sighed that day. “Let me say that I would never do this if I had a choice, but—”

“Get on with it!”

In all my years of knowing her, I had never seen Homura get this mad over _anything_. Quite honestly, her raised voice and seething expression scared the hell out of me, given my current condition. At the same time, I felt a bit touched that she seemed to care that much about me.

Eventually, the fear won over. “R-right. Well, the thing is…” the glare on her face only served to remind me that, if I didn’t tell her soon, then I would probably die long before an eventual lack of ‘lifeblood’ got to my system.

“In order to keep my access to the supply, I kind of have to… start going to school.”

When I turned my gaze, which had gravitated to the floor on its own, up to meet hers, I found her anger diminished. We maintained eye contact for God knows how long, both of us seeming to think that all we needed to keep an intelligent conversation going was eye contact and periodic blinking.

I silently cursed myself when I broke our locked gaze, feeling like I had just lost a staring contest. But I had to look at the time on my wristwatch, to make sure I was still within the time period for drinking my ‘lifeblood’. I noted that I only had a minute left, making me look to my half-full bottle with much fright.

 _I’m gonna have to… chug it…!_ The thought alone repulsed me, but I knew I had no choice in the matter; the active ingredient from last dose would stop functioning entirely in a min— no, now it was less than a minute.

With great willpower, I raised the transparent soda bottle to my lips once again, preparing to chug the absolute worst liquid I had ever tasted to date. I knew this stuff was too valuable to waste, but that didn’t stop the bitter face I made when the burning liquid touched my lips.

At last, I began to drink. It took every ounce of willpower I had to not spit it right back out or even outright _vomit_. It felt like hours went by as I gulped the nasty substance down, making me wonder if this torturous scorching experience would ever end.

 _Of course it won’t,_ I reminded myself. _I have to deal with this for the rest of my life._

At last, after opening my watery eyes with much effort, I saw the last of the accursed liquid cascade from the bottle and into my mouth. With one, final gulp, I finished the bottle, doing my best to keep from shouting a string of expletives at the blazing agony currently engulfing my mouth and throat.

It was with all my vocal power that I found myself choking out a strained and raspy, “I… need… a chaser…!”

And yet, despite my desperation, the shock to my system from ingesting so much at once caused my muscles to weaken for just a moment, making me fall to my hands and knees, gasping for breath. The sudden impact caused my ponytail to come undone, sending locks of crimson hair cascading down my back and over my sides.

I briefly wondered when my hair had grown so much, but stopped when I felt a cold glass being pushed up to my cheek. “Drink,” a worried and irritated voice commanded, making me tilt my head upwards to meet the unreadable gaze of Homura Akemi.

_It’s always bad when I can’t judge her expression at all._

I parted my lips slightly, afraid that I would fall if I tried to move up even one of my hands to take the glass. She seemed to notice my plight, and she put the glass to my lips before tilting it upwards, sending cold, refreshing, _soothing_ water down my throat.

The relief was immediate, and after a few seconds, I felt the strength return to my body. I sat up, brushing some of my unexpectedly long hair back over my shoulder while looking for the hair tie. I spotted it just out of my reach, cringing at its state.

_It snapped…_

I felt as if a little part of me had died now that it was gone, because this would make it considerably harder to eat without my hair getting in the way.

_Speaking of hair…_

“When did my/your hair get so long?”

Our eyes sought out each other once again as we wondered what just happened. Our blinking conversation never got the chance to resume, however, as we both heard the sound of someone else coming through the back door. Both of our eyes turned to the disturbance, finding…

_Wait… who is this?_

For the record, this girl with light blue hair that looked to be about mid-back-length, sporting a white T-shirt and dark blue denim shorts, didn’t seem to recognize me, either as we, too, had a short blinking match.

It took me a minute, but I finally realized who this this girl was just as Homura confirmed it.

“Is the concept on knocking on my front door _alien_ to you people?” she queried, sending the new intruder a hard look before turning it on me.

This, in turn, caused the blue-haired girl, whose countenance seemed unaffected by Homura’s snark, to look at me as well. After a few more seconds of staring, a smirk grew on her face, and she turned to Homura with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“So, you finally got tired of waiting for an answer from Madoka, and turned to another girl for sexual release, huh?”

_Suddenly, I feel like puking all over again._

Before the raven-haired girl could formulate an angry retort, I decided to make my identity known. “First off, hell no,” I said, giving both of them a glare before continuing. “And second, am I really that forgettable, Sayaka?”

Said blunette looked over to me again. “I’m sorry, who are…?” and finally, a spark of recognition registered in her eyes. “Kyouya?!”

I couldn’t resist the urge to smirk. I looked over to Homura, almost cracking up as I said my next words. “Hey, she figured it out! Somebody give her a medal!”

Even my violet-eyed best friend couldn’t help but crack a smile at my words, especially when we both turned to Sayaka and saw _her_ reaction.

“Shut up!” she shouted, giving me the most menacing stare she could muster. Considering what had just happened, there wasn’t much impact. “How could I recognize you at this point? The only thing that looks the same as a year ago is your hair color!”

Somehow, I found myself looking over to a mirror conveniently located on the wall next to the hallway. She was right; my facial structure had changed and become more feminine, my hair was somehow down to my waist, and my figure was much less muscular and more slim, aside from the two specific reasons why my old, tight-fitting muscle shirts would no longer fit comfortably.

_This is the first time I’ve looked in a mirror in months, but it definitely doesn’t comfort me to know how different I look._

I decided to mask my surprise. “And yet I look similar enough for you to recognize me after hearing me speak, even though my voice is different, too.”

Sensing that the argument would probably only degenerate from here, Homura decided to butt in. “So, back to an earlier topic,” unfortunately, the topic she chose was one that I would rather not have brought up with Sayaka within a three-kilometer radius. “Please tell me you have a bra on under that jacket.”

If looks could kill, she would’ve been dead in an instant. I knew exactly what she was doing; she was trying to get me out of her hair by way of…

“You seem to think that I never wash my clothes,” I retorted, looking anywhere but at either of my two tormentors. “The one they sent me home in is in the washer, and they expected me to get more by myself.”

Unfortunately, this was the last nail in the coffin. The moment I turned to fearfully analyze Sayaka’s reaction, I found her excited eyes not ten centimeters from my own.

_No…_

“I’ve decided!” she exclaimed. I already knew where this was leading, but it didn’t stop me from praying for _anything else_.

_Please, please, no!_

I backed away on impulse immediately after her shout, only to feel her hand take my right wrist into a death grip. It took everything I had not to cry out in pain, the lingering weakness in my body ensuring that my hand would turn blue before I gave in and shouted.

Though I knew it wasn’t wise, I decided to take the bait. “D-decided what?” My stutter was not from nervousness; rather, the increasingly intense pain on my wrist had me almost in tears.

_Damn, my body is weak now. The worst part of it is that it’s not just from the drink._

“We’re going shopping!” my unwitting blue-haired tormentor proclaimed.

I knew that this was my fate the very moment Homura brought up my current state of dress. Even so, it didn’t make finally being faced head-on with the reality any less piercing. My pride as a man had just taken the fatal blow.

I turned to Homura as the blunette began dragging me out of her house. Her small, smug smile was met with a harsh glower. Said glower undoubtedly translated to exactly this: _If I don’t die from over-stimulation today, I’m going to kill you._

It saddened me to know that the effectiveness of such a stare had now lessened considerably. This fact was proven by her reaction, being the subtle widening of her smirk.

_This is gonna be a long-ass day._


	2. Studies of a NEET/First Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyouya tries to do work for the upcoming human-enforced torture zone called school. Time-skip to the first morning of school, when Kyouya learns that his last shred of manliness - his name - has been stripped away from him. Things go about as well as you'd expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No M-rated stuff yet. That's gonna happen a lot later. A bit more of the situation is explained, but not too much.

I’d Rather Die

Chapter Two: Studies of a NEET/First Morning

* * *

 

_"We're going shopping!" my unwitting blue-haired tormentor proclaimed._

_I knew that this was my fate the very moment Homura brought up my current state of dress. Even so, it didn't make finally being faced head-on with the reality any less piercing. My pride as a man had just taken the fatal blow._

_I turned to Homura as the blunette began dragging me out of her house. Her small, smug smile was met with a harsh glower. Said glower undoubtedly translated to exactly this:_  If I don't die from over-stimulation today, I'm going to kill you.

_It saddened me to know that the effectiveness of such a stare had now lessened considerably. This fact was proven by her reaction, being the subtle widening of her smirk._

_I thought one last thing before the vice grip on my arm dragged me out Homura's backdoor._

This is gonna be a long-ass day.

* * *

 

“So booored…” I drawled out as long as possible, laying my head down on the table. My eyes closed slowly, and I almost fell asleep, the afternoon heat having gotten the best of me, when—

“Head up, Kyouya. You need to finish this before school starts,” the bane of my current existence appeared from the kitchen with two glasses of water. Homura Akemi, my best friend (when we didn’t want to mutilate each other), the girl who had somehow gotten me accepted into her all-girls’ private high school. When I asked her how the hell she swung it, she refused to tell me, only presenting me with a tree’s worth of the dreaded sheets of paper I had been told was ‘homework’.

“I’ve never even _gone_ to school, Homura,” I drew out every syllable of her name slightly longer than usual. Unfortunately, I was far too tired and bored to raise my voice, so the words came out as a high-pitched moan. “Let alone a school made just for the more brutal gender.”

“Which you are now,” my friend didn’t hesitate to remind me of my worst nightmare and how it had effectively come true. The third lethal blow my man’s pride had taken in three days. The first was with Sayaka and her drive to make me buy women’s underwear (and we ended up buying a _lot_ more against my will), and the second had been when some dudes the male me used to know decided to hit on the ‘new girl in town’ the next day. I promptly walked off on those assholes before they recognized the rare crimson hair color as that of their ex-bud, Kyouya. I had no desire of dealing with _that_ bed of needles.

“Screw off, Blackie,” I dryly retorted into the desk. “It’s not like I wanted this. But I was parentless, and essentially had no rights in their desperate eyes.”

“Less talking, more working,” my slave-driver of a best friend cut me off before the self-pity party could continue.

“How do you people sit _still_ for so long?” I groaned into the desk, still too tired/bored to really shout. “This is like a torture device…”

“Usually, people have a whole month to do this much work,” she informed me dutifully. “But your supply of that ‘lifeblood’ stuff runs out in two weeks, so you only have half of that before you have to start school to continue living.”

The day before, I had informed Homura of the specifics of my predicament. As I had been home for almost two weeks, I only had about fifteen days before they cut off my access to the chemicals that kept my body from attacking itself. That meant I had two weeks to start going to school, or I would effectively die.

Therefore, she had worked a freaking miracle and somehow gotten me enrolled in her high school mid-term. I was the same age as Homura, so I would be going into second year as well, so long as I could prove my worth by completing this mountain of work in just a few weeks.

Her high school was actually rather small, despite being top-tier. She told me that there were only two classes for each grade, from primary school to the end of upper secondary school, or high school. Each class could hold a max of twenty-five kids, which meant that there were really only a hundred and fifty kids in the high school division – probably less, considering how rarely new students got accepted.

“Don’t remind me of that nasty stuff, I’m not due for another three hours…” I grumbled irritably as I finally raised my head to continue working. “God, I hope they start supplying it in pill form soon. I can take pills just fine with _normal freaking water_.”

“Quit complaining about the substance that keeps you alive and in my hair,” Homura reprimanded me in a rather confusing tone.

“Why do you make it sound like me being in your hair is a _good_ thing?” I asked her pointedly, giving the raven-haired girl a slightly nervous stare. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to know the answer to this one. “Don’t I always cause you trouble?”

“If you’re stuck to me, Kyouya, then I don’t have to worry about stupid things like whether you’re safe.” Was the instant reply I received.

Oh, right. I completely forgot why Homura became my best friend over all my other guy friends in the first place. She saw right through any and all lies that I would try to tell, she saw right into my heart as if it were a book for her to read. And even if she was quite blunt in how she mentioned it, she would always be the first to know I was upset. She was always the first to try to make it better.

“Damn, even as a… even as a girl, I still can’t win against you.” Though I said it with a strong touch of loss, I really felt kinda happy about it.

“You’re stuck with me, Kyouya.”

“I know, I know. But it’s really not that bad, I guess. Losing to you, I mean.”

The rest of the day was filled with a lot of procrastination, minimal progress on my schoolwork, and a slightly nicer best friend.

* * *

“Hey, Kyouya! Get up, it’s time for school!”

I merely mumbled in response. Then came a sharp pain in my left side.

“Ouch!” I snapped, opening my eyes a fraction just in time to see Homura’s shoe retract away from my side. “Did… did you just… kick me?”

“We have to get moving in thirty minutes, and you’re barely even awake, let alone vertical,” came the no-nonsense response. “Of course I’m going to use force to get you up.”

“Ugh…” I groaned rather loudly, sitting partway up. “All right, I’m getting up. Just don’t kick me again.”

“Here, take this,” my best friend ordered, putting something in my open left hand and putting a glass to my cheek.

It was then that things really started clearing up in my sleep-fogged brain. The thing she put in my hand was a pill. The hospital had told me that the new supply of my ‘lifeblood’ would be in pill form after I started school. This meant that I must have actually gotten accepted into Homura’s school, despite only turning my work in through her at the very last minute.

So now the choice was mine: live in living hell or die and go to real hell. If it weren’t for my best friend next to me, I probably would have chosen the latter option. But the thought of her mourning over me kinda bothered me, so I kept quiet and decided to take the pill as instructed.

I grabbed the glass of cool water, tilting it towards my mouth and downing a gulp’s worth to keep in my mouth. I then put the pill in my mouth, swallowing it and the gulp of water whole.

“You’ll have to take another one at lunch time, by the way,” she reminded me with a slightly less impatient tone. “Go to the nurse’s office for that.”

“Gotcha,” I groggily affirmed that I heard her. “I’m gonna go take a bath, okay? See you in fifteen.”

A quick bath and change of clothes later, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, looking in disgust at my new school uniform that I just put on. It was a pink and white sailor-style uniform, but it showed off my belly if I so much as raised my arms, and the magenta pleated skirt barely went halfway past my thighs. Not to mention how tightly form-fitting it was at the chest… I had the sneaking suspicion that whoever designed this uniform must have been some kind of pervert.

“Stop hogging the bathroom, Kyouya.” Came a complaint from outside.

“How can they expect me to wear this?” I complained right back. “It should be borderline indecent exposure!”

“This coming from the one who used to wear sleeveless muscle shirts and shorts every day,” Homura reminded me of my past self at the worst possible time.

“At least I wore a _jacket_ with that getup!” I retorted weakly. Looking back on it, I wore things more revealing than this on a daily basis a year back. But at that point, things had been different. I was a muscular teenage _male_ back then, after all.

“Whatever you say, Kyouya. Now get out of the bathroom, we have to be at school in about ten minutes.”

“How long does it take to get there?” I spoke through the door.

“Five minutes, plus four to get to the office for your first day.”

I sighed, turning away from my reflection with a huff. There wasn’t much I could do about it anyway, all things considered. I just had to pretend like the outfit _wasn’t_ too skimpy for my tastes. If I didn’t show that it bothered me, nobody else would think anything of it.

I opened the door to the bathroom, walking out fully ready to leave, minus my book-bag that Homura had bought for me. I had wondered why I couldn’t just use my old ratty black backpack, but she had adamantly refused to entertain the thought without telling me exactly why.

“Finally,” my violet-eyed best friend said on a large exhale. She looked me over, and a look of understanding dawned on her face. “Oh, it looks like your uniform is a size too small.”

“Are you _kidding_ me?!”

* * *

“By the way,” Homura said, looking me in the eyes as we walked side by side to her school. “I had to tell them a different name when enrolling you.”

“ _What_?” I spat out, venom dripping off my solitary word before I continued. “Why would you need to do _that_?”

My best friend shook her head as if the answer were obvious. “You know, Kyouya is a boy’s name. And we’re going to an all-girls’ school. There was no way I could give them your real name.”

“Okay, so what did you change my name to?” I prayed to whatever god there was that it was a gender-neutral name. Sadly, no such luck.

“Kyouko Sakura. That’s your name while you attend school.”

“Homura…” I spoke in a quiet, deadly volume. She obviously noticed, but it had never intimidated her, even when I was a muscular boy. “Why did you change my name to something so _girly_? Why not something gender-neutral?”

“I went for something similar to your old name, but also something believably female.”

I slapped a hand to my face and covered my eyes. This girl and I… how did we become best friends again? Seriously, I sometimes could name temperamental Rottweilers easier to get along with than her.

“Whatever,” my one-word response didn’t stay that way for long. “So, what kind of cover story did you use for enrolling me, anyway?”

Homura looked at me, an expression of genuine surprise on her face. “Why do you want to know?”

I scoffed at her surprise, mostly because I didn’t understand its cause. “I figured I’d better know about my ‘story’ ahead of time to keep today’s surprises to a minimum.”

“Right… I just told them you’re my friend from out of town who’s staying with me for a while for family reasons, and asked them to accept you into the school if you showed you could do the work.”

“Really?” I asked her, surprised by the simplicity of her cover story. “That’s all? Nothing outlandish?”

“I wanted you to have a _believable_ cover story, not an impressive one,” came my straightforward answer. Right, I forgot that Homura could be the queen of killjoys when she wanted to.

“Well, anything _else_ I should know?” I decided to ask for good measure.

“I told them you’d be interested in joining the track club.”

_Oh, shit._

Just a few minutes later, and I found myself staring down a large, white, ornate school building. Students were still filing into it with minutes to spare before the bell, and they all wore the same uniform that Homura and I did.

“This is it…” once again, my pride as a man took the fatal blow. Here I was, about to start attending an all-girls’ school. And everybody there would be none the wiser that I had once been a completely different gender… but that was to be expected. By all appearances and functions, I had essentially become a girl.

“Here’s to a good school year… Kyouko.”

“Why you…!”

Chasing my snickering best friend into an all-girls school, this is how my new life as a female began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions, comments and concerns can be left in the comments section! Please, if you have any critique, don't hesitate to comment!
> 
> Next chapter will be Kyouko trying out for the track team and finding an unexpected strength.

**Author's Note:**

> I would ask for a few comments, but they don't seem to come easily on this site, so I'll save my breath for when I actually publish something good.


End file.
